


Bloody Butterflies

by 0uter_space



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Bisexual Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Crushes, Emotional Hurt, Feels, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Reggie Peters Needs a Hug (Julie and The Phantoms), Sad, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, but not too heavy, god I can’t tag, sorry bout that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0uter_space/pseuds/0uter_space
Summary: “It’s you, Luke. It’s always been you.”It was so quiet that the earth must have stopped spinning. The seagulls must have stopped cawing and the waves must have stopped crashing, just so the world could hear Reggie spit his nonexistent heart out onto the cold sand that laid between him and Luke, and watch it writhe in pain as his love was left unrequited.Or...Reggie finally reveals his long-standing crush to Luke despite knowing he doesn’t reciprocate.
Relationships: Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Julie Molina & Reggie Peters, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson (implied), Luke Patterson & Julie Molina, Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	Bloody Butterflies

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to create this work because of my intense love for Ruke but also the knowledge that it will never be canon bc the writers are clearly going for the Juke storyline. I do genuinely believe that Reggie has a phat crush on Luke, though, so I wrote this as a way to sort of acknowledge that fact whilst also allowing Juke to exist in all its canon-ness. This is what I want for a season 2 tbh, but with less angst lmao.  
> Minor warning for mentions of blood, but it’s all metaphorical. Also, very very minor thoughts of self harm, but only, like, one sentence, and you have to squint.

There were a lot of things to miss about being alive.

There was the comforting feeling of raindrops falling on your skin.

There was a certainty brought by the consolation of sleep after a long day, just after the moon begins to rise in the sky.

There was the ability to rest your hand on your chest and feel the steady thrumming of your own heartbeat.

There was family, and food, and the sensation of taking a deep breathe of air after being trapped inside.

But Reggie? Reggie missed Luke.

He was aware of how dumb that sounded, considering how much time the whole band spent together. But this new Luke, the dead one, would turn his head every few minutes just to gaze deeply into Julie’s brown eyes, and Reggie’s chest would fill up with a symphony of _wrongwrongwrong_ and he’d bite the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

Back when they were alive, when they were Sunset Curve and it was just the three of them and Bobby against the rest of the world, Luke would look at _him_. He’d have that distinct glint in his greenish eyes that was just so _Luke_ , a shimmer of mischief and a spark of his contagious confidence that made Reggie feel like he could do anything.

When they’d be singing on stage and Luke would beckon him over to sing in his microphone, their faces mere inches away from each other as they shared each and every one of their breathes, Reggie could feel himself glowing. A fuzzy warmth that started in his belly and spread through his limbs like wildfire, radiating through his fingertips and his toes. He lived off of that feeling, but there was nowhere else he could get it from except Luke.

But now Luke was dead, and his eyes didn’t glint unless they fell upon dark, curly hair and warm, brown skin.

So Reggie learned how to pretend.

He learned how to swallow the butterflies that tried to flutter up his throat and he learned how to conceal that flush that climbed up his cheeks every time Luke brushed against him.

But it was eating away at him slowly like acid, and the longer he tried to hide the way he felt, it _burned_. It took him a while to realize that the burning was guilt. Here he was, drooling over his best friend who was clearly into someone else. He knew it was irrational - it’s not as if Luke or Julie could read his mind - but he couldn’t help but fear potentially ruining whatever it was that they had bubbling up between them. He was a spectator now, and he was best suited to stay in the stands.

But he couldn’t anymore. He needed to say something

He was barely aware of himself putting his bass away after practice, going through the motions whilst he was really somewhere else, deep inside his wandering thoughts.

He was barely aware of Julie waving them all goodnight and leaving the studio to head inside her house.

But most importantly, he was barely aware of asking Luke to talk alone, and poofing them both to the beach.

It was a beautiful evening; the moon was full and bright in the sky, and the constellations that Reggie spent hours learning about as a child were all visible in the cloudless darkness.

But a sudden woosh of cold air brought him out of his thoughts, and just like that, he was suddenly aware of _everything_. The way Luke’s concerned gaze felt like it was very nearly burning a hole into the side of his face, and the ball of unspoken and unreciprocated words lodged in his throat.

“Reg? What’s up?” Luke asked, eyes squinted in a frown. Reggie tried his hardest to swallow down his emotions and look the other boy in the eye.

“It’s...not that big of a deal. We can go back, if you want,” Reggie suggested, toeing the sand beneath his feet. The mass of words that needed to be said were clawing at the inside of his esophagus, now, but the fizzling nerves in his stomach kept them at bay. He was pathetic, bringing Luke out here to tell him how he feels, only to chicken out last second.

“No, it clearly is. You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?” Luke questioned, frown deepening, guilt beginning to lace his features. Reggie nearly panicked. Luke didn’t deserve to feel guilty; he did nothing wrong.

“Of course! I know that, I just...”

Reggie had to cut himself off before he word-vomited all of his pent up feelings onto the boy in front of him.

“I promise I won’t judge you, Reg.”

Luke slung his arm comfortingly over Reggie’s shoulders.

“You can’t promise me anything,” Reggie stated, trying his hardest not to pull away. “Not if you knew the truth.”

“The truth? Reggie, what’s going on?” Luke exclaimed, removing his arm in favor of positioning himself directly in front Reggie, who flinched away.

“I-“ Reggie’s voice cracked and he took a shaky breathe. The words were on the tip of his tongue, now, pushing against his lips. They tasted an awful lot like bile.

He’d like to attribute his watery eyes to the wind. He knew it was more than that.

Luke’s face was desperate, a silent plea for Reggie to be honest with him. Reggie knew Luke was only concerned because _he didn’t know_. He could almost picture the lead singer’s face contorting in disgust once he spills the truth. He won’t care then. The thought makes Reggie nauseous.

Every muscle in Reggie’s body tells him to stay put, to keep his neck bent down and his eyes trained at the sand, but he fights and he fights, and before he knows it, he falling back into Luke’s pools of green, deeper and deeper and deeper, and the words start spilling out.

“I see the way you look at her, Luke. I see the way your eyes light up, and I see the way you smile.” Reggie shrugged with a humorless chuckle. “And her? She smiles back.”

Luke’s face blurred as the light from the moon streaked across Reggie’s vision. He was crying. He bit his lip and shifted his gaze to the ground once more, not wanting to witness Luke’s reaction.

Luke was, to say the least, confused. He had gathered all of the puzzle pieces, but they didn’t quite seem to fit together.

“You...like Julie?” He asked, knowing as soon as he said it, though, that he was wrong. The words felt incorrect on his lips. Reggie saw Julie as a little sister, and Luke _knew_ that the bassists feelings for her would never stray that far from familial.

Reggie slowly shook is head, despite Luke not needing the confirmation. A salty tear fell down his cheek as he looked back up at the boy in front of him, who gave him so much pain and so much exhilaration at the same time. The boy who set butterflies loose in his stomach to flutter their wings until he felt sick. The boy who’s glow drew Reggie in like a moth to a flame, but a moth who failed to think and got lapped up by the fire before he even had a chance to realize what was happening.

“Not Julie,” Reggie breathed, barely a whisper. But Luke could hear. And if he had a heart, he was sure that Luke would be able to hear that, too. “It’s you, Luke. It’s always been you.”

It was so quiet that the earth must have stopped spinning. The seagulls must have stopped cawing and the waves must have stopped crashing, just so the world could hear Reggie spit his nonexistent heart out onto the cold sand that laid between him and Luke, and watch it writhe in pain as his love was left unrequited.

Luke’s eyes widened. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as he sucked in a breathe of the nighttime air.

“You like...me?” Luke managed to get out between blinks of shock. The puzzle pieces were coming together, now, and the picture was clear as day. It was unexpected, but it made sense. “Reggie, I-“

“-don’t like me back? I already know, Luke. What you have with Julie, that’s special. I don’t want to be the one to ruin that,” Reggie assumed, as he let his eyes drift between Luke’s shocked face and the starry sky above the ocean.

“I’m so sorry, Reg...”

“Don’t apologize. Please,” Reggie blurted before Luke could say anything more. It wasn’t the lead singer’s fault that Reggie’s heart had chosen the least convenient person to fall for. The tears continued to well up in his eyes, and he was still unsure why. He guessed that it would take years for his feelings to fizzle out, even if he fully accepted the fact that they were unreciprocated as soon as Julie entered their lives, or, well, deaths.

There was a minute of silence, but not the uncomfortable kind. The kind that was filled up by noisy thoughts going through both of their heads as they stood on an empty beach at 10 pm. It was Luke who finally spoke up.

“I won’t judge you, Reggie. I never have and I never will, not for this. I love you. You’re my brother, and you mean so much to me...but I don’t love you like that. And I know that _you_ already know, but Julie and I...” he trailed off as his own eyes grew slightly wet. Reggie gave him a watery smile.

“I understand, Luke,” he replied. On the outside, he was the perfect picture of calm. On the inside, there was a massive cavity where the words once laid unspoken in his chest. That’s where they belonged, but _stupid Reggie_ and his _stupid feelings_ couldn’t keep them contained, and now they were in Luke’s hands. But as much as Luke loved him, as much as Luke cared, he couldn’t give them back.

“I don’t want this to change anything. Will you-will you be alright?” Luke asked, _begged_ , taking Reggie’s hand in his own, a gesture made to provide comfort, but left nothing but needles in Reggie’s skin.

“I’m ok. I’ll be ok,” Reggie reassured, suppressing a sob, a scream, and a heap of bloody butterflies from escaping his mouth.

Luke nodded, not seeming entirely convinced. But it was easier to pretend, wasn’t it? It’s always easier to pretend.

“Would you mind if I take some time alone to clear my head?” Reggie asked, trying not to crush Luke’s fingers in his grip. The lead singer nodded immediately, a rapid movement of his head.

“Take as much time as you need,” he replied with a small smile. Reggie was barely able to return the smile before he found himself poofing away, not even sure where to, but desperate to be someplace that Luke _wasn’t_.

He found himself in a spot he used to visit quite often when he was younger. It was a small clearing on top of a hill that overlooked much of the city, surrounded by trees and forest.

The second his feet hit the ground, he didn’t even need to look around. He just opened his mouth, and he screamed.

He screamed bloody murder, for the hole in his chest and the butterflies that lie dead in his stomach.

His hands grabbed at the roots of his hair and he _pulled_ , because maybe if he caused the pain himself, he’d be able to take control of it, and be able to stop knife-stabbing hurt that now seemed to be a permanent fixture throughout his body.

When his voice began cracking and his throat felt torn to shreds, he let himself sob as he collapsed to the ground.

A crying boy juxtaposed with a beautiful view. That was his life and that was his death.

And when he laid on the ground, eyes barely open, limbs tired and aching, and face sticky and swollen, he realized that blood and butterflies really do go hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, I hope you enjoyed the story, and if anyone is actually reading this, please do comment your Ruke speculations and headcanons below, cuz I wanna hear them!


End file.
